Old Habits
by Erutian
Summary: A post-series tale. Julia has been revived; can she trust that HE is also truly dead?  Rewrite of my fic by the same name. Story is done differently than the original. Rated for mild language and less than mild sex in the second chapter.
1. Prologue: Life, Death, and Rebirth

AN: As is obligatory of we poor fan fiction writers, I must confess: I own nothing original to Cowboy Bebop. The characters introduced as Sarah and 'the dark-skinned stranger' are exclusively mine. This is a rewrite of an older fic by the same name. Please be aware that the second chapter contains a vivid sex scene and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 17. Read at your own risk. Reviews are always sought after and welcome, so please feel free to let me know what you think. =D

Prologue – Life, Death, and Rebirth

"_So, you were going to betray me?"_

_She shrugged a non-committal response._

"_Did you really think you could just leave?"_

"_Vicious…"_

"_Keep dreaming, Julia. It's never going to happen."_

"_Are you going to kill him?"_

"_Yes… With your hands." The gun hit the table with a deafening finality. "Either you kill him, or you both die. Those are your only options."_

Those words – and her decision to throw them out the window – sealed her fate. Unable to face the idea of killing the one man she'd truly loved, but unable to trust that they would ever make it out alive, the star-crossed blonde took what few things mattered to her and fled. She swore she'd never set foot on Mars again and abandoned the life she'd known for so long.

For years, she succeeded in hiding from both men who hunted after her. For years, she lived in something like peace. She knew better, however, than to believe this was some kind of freedom. She knew better than to think she would ever be truly rid of the memories that haunted her every sleeping moment.

No matter where she stayed (however briefly), her mornings were always the same. As were her evenings. As were periodic moments throughout the day. As were her dreams. She stalked through every room in her dingy accommodations. No room was left unchecked, no door unlocked, no window opened, no surface not scrutinized for even the barest inkling of an unwelcome intruder, an uninvited guest.

The habit had formed out of necessity, she told herself. In truth, it was a never-ending fear that one day, one unlucky morning, _he_ would find her. No matter that she had survived on her own for many years. No matter that she had seen neither head nor hide of either male from whom she eluded notice. No matter that she had covered her tracks every step of the way. She knew better. She _knew_ he could find her.

And thus, every morning, every evening, and whenever that fundamental doubt crept into her mind, she walked the same, careful, cautious path that she had taken every day since her last time on Mars. She would not be caught unaware again. She would not let him find her alone, vulnerable, unprepared.

When that fateful day came, when the moment her running had amounted for nothing more than sore feet, she knew the end was near. It didn't take the attempts on her life. It didn't take the rumors of a coup in the Red Dragon syndicate. These things were unimportant, inconsequential compared to the look in Spike's eyes when he set them on her for the first time since however long ago.

He was so calm when he looked at her, gun drawn, cocked, and aimed right for his heart. His eyes belied the betrayal he felt, but it was the betrayal of a thousand lifetimes ago, not that moment of reunion. He stood there, stoic, as she approached, the look on his face not conceding an inch of emotion.

"It was raining that day as well…"

They spoke for the first time, the baritone of his voice soothing in its familiarity. She shared her secrets, embracing him and begging him to run away with her like they always meant to. Then they were off. It was a race against time and truth, the last stretch to victory and freedom. The shots rang out to signal the start of the race and blood ran cold on a rain-stained gray rooftop. She died, as she'd always wanted to – held tightly in his arms.

Sweet, silent, blissful darkness took her and wrapped her in its embrace. Her freedom was secure. She was safe at long last. Soon, she knew, her dark-eyed Cowboy would join her in the darkness and nothing would part them ever again. Not Vicious, not the Red Dragon, nothing. For the first time in her life (ironic that it came only in death), she was truly happy.

It was the slow, steady, incessant beeping that first intruded on her tiny grasp of what she was content to believe was heaven. Silence had reigned in this place for what could have been forever. Now, a strangely familiar, starkly foreboding sound echoed in the darkness and brought with it flickers of light. Her body, something from which she'd convinced herself she was free, ached. Her head, a swirling mass of glowing color and returning familiarity, throbbed and every part of her unconsciousness told her to fight it. To stay here. To be free.

"Doctor! Doctor! She's coming 'round!"

With surprising ease, she sat up on her own, staring around at the faces of strangers and the room of white. She glanced at the first male to come barreling into the room. He was tall, dark-haired; his face was kind and he wore a long coat of sterile white. He smiled at her. She glared. He fell back and doubled over in pain when the knuckles of her curled first collided with his crotch. There were gasps and the newly woken blonde fitted the nurses and second doctor with the same violently angry expression.

"Why couldn't you have let me die?"

Once the head doctor had been treated for a sharp blow to the groin, the remaining staff explained to her that she'd been in a coma for six months. News hit that the new head of the Red Dragon Syndicate, a man who had slaughtered the leading Elders and taken over leadership, had been slain by a lone gunman who died in the effort. During the official investigation and clean up, she had been found, comatose but still alive.

Though hopeful for her recovery, the female had been completely unresponsive throughout the entire six months. No stimuli could rouse her from her potentially eternal slumber. The medical staff in charge of her care had been close to giving up hope that she'd ever come around. They had decided to take her off life support if she still had made no progress by the end of the next week.

Lucky girl, they called her.

If she didn't think they'd sedate her before she got far enough to be satisfied, she'd have knocked out each and every one of them.

After a week's worth of testing, she was discharged. She was thrust back out into a world she knew nothing about, a place where her freedom was guaranteed for the only ones who would have threatened it were dead. The Red Dragon Syndicate had disbanded into small, petty street gangs with no capable leader to unite them. She was truly, at long last, free to live her life at her leisure.

As she stared out at the busy street and crowded sidewalk of the Tarsus Memorial Hospital, she found herself unable to move. She had no direction left to her life. Once, she had lived to stay hidden from Vicious and Spike. Now, they were dead and she knew her life was nothing without them. What life did she have left now that her reason to live was gone?

A shudder crawled up her spine. Gone? Was he really… could he really be gone? Was it even possible for him to be dead? He had been the shadow that haunted her steps for more years than she wanted to remember. He was as much a part of her as her own beating heart. To imagine a world where one did not exist without the other was like imagining a world without night. It simply… couldn't be.

In that moment she knew. She knew the same fundamental truth she'd always known: Vicious would never let her live in peace. It didn't matter that others proclaimed him dead. It didn't matter that he hadn't been seen since his final showdown with the swimming bird of her dreams. No, none of it mattered.

After all, was she not proof that the dead do not always succumb to death? No, there could be no Julia without Vicious. The world had proven all too cruel for anything else to be true. Perhaps she was crazy. Perhaps she was paranoid. But in the depth of her soul, she knew he was alive somewhere.


	2. Chapter One: Sarah

Chapter One – Sarah

As if nothing had changed (and, to her, it hadn't), she fell back into her old routines. She never stayed more than a few months in any one place, straying from city to city, planet to planet as her resources permitted. She would find odd jobs to support the old habit, keeping to herself and always keeping herself as far under the radar as possible.

Late one night, while she was staying the weekend at a small motel on Earth, she was roused by the sounds of screaming, gunfire, and a dull roar she couldn't define. Panic struck her. Had he finally found her? Had she really been careless enough to let him find her? She dashed the blankets off her, threw her shoes on, and made for the door.

Outside, hell itself had consumed the walls and floor of the hallway. The main entrance was blocked and most of the other end of the hallway was already being drowned in flames. There was no way out. She wondered momentarily at the irony of dying a second time in the line of fire when the sound of a child crying caught her attention down the hall.

Without a second thought to the blazing inferno racing at her heels, she bolted off in the direction of the cries. She stopped at a door three rooms down when the crying became loudest. Tentatively, she tapped the doorknob and found it surprisingly cool compared to the rising temperature of the hallway. The fire eating at the building was not far off and she knew there wasn't much time.

Not surprisingly, the door was locked from the inside. Frightened, incoherent screaming answered her shouts to whoever might be inside. As the fire began to lick the quickly charring wallpaper less than a foot from the doorframe, she kicked and rammed the door until it gave under her desperate ministrations and she all-but fell inside. The wailing continued as she sought to quickly shut the door again in hopes of staving off the toxic black fumes that roiled and tainted the air outside the room.

Inside, the screams turned to hoarse whispers and Julia frantically searched for the source. The room was identical to her own. A single bed, a bedside table, a small vanity desk, a black and white television, and a small bathroom all crowded into a space two sizes too small for its accommodations. The lights were all out; one of the tall lamps was sputtering at the broken light bulb, sparks flying from it every so often.

A long, black shadow lay across the floor at the foot of the bed, illuminated only by the parking lot lights outside the window. Julia could not quite make out the exact features of the fallen figure, but next to it she could see a more vertical figure. The figure emitted increasingly quiet, sorrowful sounds. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Julia saw it was a small child, tugging desperately at the unmoving figure at the child's feet.

The tall blonde crouched down, ignoring the sounds of what could only be described as maniacal laughter as the fire began disintegrating the main exit. She groped around in the dark. Her hand felt flesh first, cold and wet. When she drew it back, she saw a dark, sticky fluid coating her fingertips and she knew there would be no waking this silent figure.

The room grew suddenly brighter in the light of the ensuing flame. Julia saw, for the first time, the small child whose mother lay unmoving on the floor. The girl could be no older than four and an even brighter blonde than Julia. Her eyes, a reddish teddy brown, struck the taller female with an unbidden memory of the last time such colored eyes gazed at her in need. In that moment, Julia's mind was made up.

Without a word, she gathered the child up in her arms and stood. The little girl made no protest, clinging to the older woman's neck as she searched for a way out. This room was across the hall from her own and that put it at the very back of the two story brown stone that served as the motel. A window pressed against the back wall, away from the raging fire and Julia made towards it.

She glanced back at the hell that was making a break for the two surviving blondes, fear clutching her chest. The window, blessedly, was already open. There would be no time wasted prying it open and no burst of flames when the oxygen crashed into the fire and gave it the final boost it needed to leap out and swallow the figures whole. Prying the little girl from her chest, Julia kicked the protective screen to the ground outside and hoisted the younger blonde out after it.

The girl stood there, watching as her savior quickly exited the room not quite seconds before the fire exploded onto itself. Julia landed on the ground on her knees, panting heavily as she leaned forward onto her hands; her face was soaked with sweat. The little girl reached out and tugged on the older female's sleeve and Julia glanced up into those hauntingly familiar eyes.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

A groaning creak suddenly possessed the air around them and Julia was on her feet in an instant. The little girl was clutched tightly against her chest before she even had time to realize she'd picked her up. With what remained of her strength, Julia ran away from the building, heading towards the sound of sirens and flowing water.

The scene before them was utter chaos. Fire trucks flooded the parking lot of the motel. People ran about frantically, calling out the names of lost loved ones and shouting at the management for lack of anything better to do. As Julia broke into the crowd, a relatively safe distance from the building, the creak sounded out again. This time, the building's roof finally caved in and collapsed under the weight of all the destruction.

"Miss, are you alright?"

A youthful police officer approached her from the side, a hand resting on the shoulder that was not claimed by the little girl's chin. She jolted at the unfamiliar touch and it took a moment for her to calm the rising urge to instinctively defend herself. She nodded quickly, trying to recover the sudden rush of anxiety that welled in her.

"Yes, we're fine."

"What's your name, Miss?"

"What?"

"We need to make a list of all the survivors so when this whole thing is over, people can be reunited with family members they may have gotten separated from. What's your name?"

"Julia."

"Julia, huh?"

"It's a common name."

"You gotta last name, miss Julia?"

"Spiegel."

The name escaped her lips without a moment's hesitation.

"And this one?"

"Oh, this is…"

"Sawah. I'm 'onna be five dis 'ear!"

Julia couldn't help but smile. She honestly wasn't certain if the girl was merely acting to make the officer go away (a startlingly intelligent ploy for a four-year-old) or if she was simply forcing herself to forget the horrific images of her dead mother lying on the motel room floor. Either way, the officer smiled, wrote down a few notes on an open pad, and bade them a goodnight. He wished them a safe trip home and suggested they stop at the station nearby if they needed help getting back on their way. With a curt smile of her own, Julia nodded and carried the little girl away from the burning motel and out into the waiting darkness.

The first night, Julia sat up late into the early morning hours just watching Sarah sleep. She had taken them to another small place to stay for the night where she could sort out what she planned to do next. Sarah, for her part, fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down on the single bed. Julia, on the other hand and despite being exhausted from the previous evening's events, couldn't calm her nerves enough for sleep.

She contemplated taking Sarah to an orphanage or maybe to a hospital to find out if there were any records of her somewhere. The little girl had lost her mother and, though she felt drawn to her, Julia was in no position to become a surrogate. She decided, in the morning, she would take Sarah to a police station and try to find her next of kin. She didn't deserve to keep Sarah from her family.

"Momma?"

The voice of the small child roused the taller blonde from her restless doze. When the blue-eyed woman looked down at the little girl, Sarah's arms were wrapped around her waist and her head was resting against her stomach. Julia found herself staring at her a long time before draping an arm over her shoulders. Her thumb idly stroked along her arm as the girl nuzzled closer to the older female's form.

"Will we stay hewe, Momma?"

Julia sighed heavily. Whether the girl was traumatized enough to have convinced herself this stranger was her mother, or she simply didn't want to be parted from her savior, the woman didn't know. It struck at her heart to think of forcing the girl into the uncertain care of another set of strangers who may or may not be able to find her remaining family. Unable now to convince herself of enough good reasons to give her up, Julia threw to the wind every warning in her heart and closed her eyes once more.

_I'll have to find a place for us both to live after this. She doesn't deserve to have to move around the way I do._ To think she would change her way of living so quickly and for someone so small and new. She sighed to herself again. _Momma…_


	3. Chapter Two: Goodnight, Julia

Chapter Two – Goodnight, Julia

Once upon a time, six months would have been nothing but a blur to the female pushing her early thirties. The last half a year, however, had a definite clarity to it. She could recall almost every night since the moment she first laid eyes on the little blonde girl, Sarah. Having someone to live for made life far more worth remembering and though the sudden change in habit spiked her paranoia at first, Julia found this new life worth the risk and effort.

The hour was late. The rain came in heavy torrents as it often did during this season on Ganymede. She had suspected the lightning and thunder would frighten Sarah into crawling into the older female's bed, but she'd been sound asleep since before nightfall. For Julia's part, she lay on the outstretched futon in her small bedroom, a book in hand and a pair of thinly framed glasses resting at the base of her nose.

The outside world lit up like a Christmas tree, a loud clap of thunder following less than a second behind. The blonde jumped in surprise, a hand caressing over her rapidly beating heart. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. As her heart finally ceased racing, the lamps in her bedroom flickered a few times and died. The light peeking in under her bedroom door vanished and the apartment fell suddenly silent, her ears almost ringing in the utter noiselessness.

Fear crept through her, her arms and chest dotting in gooseflesh in response to the half-restrained terror and paranoia the female felt at being 'trapped' in the powerless apartment. She tried to take another few deep breaths, but found her fear inconsolable. Forcing a reminder that it was only the storm, she slipped from the futon and onto the floor.

As if trying to avoid notice by a shadowed nothing, she padded through the apartment as silently as she could muster. She slipped the coat from a hook by the door and bent down to throw her slippers over her feet so she could brave the weather on her trudge to the electrical box. She grumbled at the task ahead, straightening her jacket out as she turned the deadbolt, slid the chain lock, and twisted the knob-lock to open the door.

Shadow met her gaze when she opened the door, stopping her short. At first, she was convinced it was merely a trick of the light (or lack thereof). The shadow did not move; it made no sound; it was merely there. Perhaps her eyes were merely adjusting to the sudden darkness. When the panic in her chest began to calm, another bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the figure's face for a split second. The scream died in her throat before it could even take form.

"Julia…"

Instinctively, her hand shot out to slam the door. The heavy oaken barrier did not budge. It held fast as she tried to put something, anything between her and the invading shadow. A rumbling like thunder filled her ears, the sound ominous and threatening as the shadow shifted and came closer.

She uttered her disbelief as she fell backwards a few steps, praying she would wake up soon. This had to be a dream. It had to be.

"Julia…"

The front door slammed behind the approaching figure and the female jolted in surprise. It felt like she'd been running from him forever, but when fingertips curled around the front of her nightshirt, she knew it had been only a scarce few moments. With a thundering crash, her chest met his and she could feel the cold wet of the rain that soaked his front. Another bolt of lightning lit the male's face, the light remaining long after the thunder as the electricity suddenly hummed back to life.

In the returning light, the blonde blinked the irritation in her eyes as they adjusted to this new setting. She could see clearly again a few heartbeats following and when she laid her eyes on the figure's face, she sorely wished the power had stayed out. Now, in the blaring light of the living room, there was no denying the truth.

"Vicious!"

"How sweet of you to remember me, my dearest Julia."

"Wh-why?"

"You know why, Julia. I gave you the chance to leave with your life and you forsook my mercy. To let him live, you dug your own grave. Spike is dead, Julia. Now I've come for you."

Again she whispered her disbelief, her hands frantically trying to pry his grip from her. Low, rumbling laughter thrummed from his throat and he released her front. He twisted his grip to the long locks of her blonde hair when she bolted for her bedroom. He dragged her back to him once more and she could feel his breath on her ear.

"You've run for so long, Julia. Aren't you tired of running? Don't you wish you could just… stop?"

At the final word, he threw her face-first into the corner of the nearby wall that separated the living room from the hallway. She yelped at impact, stars blinding her as pain seared its way through her skull. She fell back a step, one hand cradling her throbbing head. Despite the roaring pain, she fled away from him, only to find herself kissing her bedroom floor as he tackled her to the ground.

"Vicious, please…"

"What's this? Julia, begging for her life? Here I thought you'd be thanking me. Don't you long to join your darling Spike again?"

There was mock concern in his voice as he drew her back to her feet. He paused a moment as he glanced at her, as if seeing the now crooked glasses on her face. Child-like curiosity possessed his features as his fingers drew the twisted frames and broken lenses from their perch upon her nose. After a moment, he gazed at her.

"I don't recall you wearing glasses, Julia."

"My eyes… Some of my senses were damaged when they…"

"When they?"

"When they brought me back…"

"Ahh, yes, yes. They told me you were dead. I laughed because I knew better."

He grinned, walking closer towards her.

"What god would let you die by any hand save my own? What god would return my life and not yours? No, no, I knew, precious Julia. I knew you were alive and well somewhere in this galaxy. It would only take time until you messed up enough for me to find you again…"

"Why, Vicious? Why couldn't you let me die? Why couldn't you just leave me in the past?"

"Because you are a threat to me, Julia. So long as you live, so long as you breathe, you are a danger to me and I will not allow you to exist."

"You're insane…"

He chuckled wryly, that dangerous look in eyes as he neared her still.

"Am I? You are my one and only weakness, Julia. No other save you has ever held the sway over me that you do…"

The wall betrayed her. She could move no further from him. She pressed herself as far into it as she could, as if somehow, with enough effort, she might be able to go through it completely and escape him. He advanced further onward, stopping when he was a mere hair's breath from her form. Fingers, some mock of tender, reached out and brushed disheveled locks of blonde out of her face.

"Were it anyone save you, I'd have killed you in a heartbeat for even thinking of betraying me. Yet here you are, alive and breathing, because I hesitated. The fact that I let you live for even a moment after you dared _look_ at another man is proof. The fact that I let _him_ live as long as he did shows there is weakness in my heart and you are its sole source."

"It wasn't his fault, Vicious."

"Quiet. I will not hear your excuses. You betrayed me, Julia, and you should have died the moment I found out. Instead, that bastard walked into the lair of the Dragon with the string to your heart and would have let you both die for his foolish pipe dream. It was out of my hands the moment he decided to get the Syndicate involved."

"Then, why…?"

"I realized too late that Spike would never let them kill him, not when he had you to run away with. Before I could stop him, he was already fighting his way out of the Syndicate and I realized there was a chance he just might get away. I wouldn't let him win, not after what he'd done. Instead, I paid his favourite whore a little visit.

"You surprised me, Julia. You really did. When I gave you the choice to kill him and live or die with him, I honestly expected you to take up arms and end his life. Perhaps it was the loyalty you'd shown me that made me think thus…"

That sardonic smile crept over his face, the gesture not even gracing his eyes.

"Loyalty? You speak of loyalty, Vicious? When were you ever loyal to anyone or anything except your own lofty ambitions? Not even the Syndicate could consider you loyal for all your dreams of overthrowing the Van."

"In all my life, I have never devoted so much of myself to any one person save you. I took you as my partner, my lover, and my equal because I saw in you the same things I saw in myself. You had more of me than even Syndicate could ever claim."

"And yet you treated me as nothing more than a piece of property to be used when desired and guarded against anyone who got too close."

Her fingertips idly brushed the ghost of a scar on the inside of her left wrist. She remembered when he'd first put that mark on her. When Vicious had found out she'd gone to dinner with an old friend ("without permission"), he'd hit her in his insanely jealous, possessive rage and forbade her from ever seeing him again. He swore she'd regret it if he ever caught wind of another incident like this in the future.

Markus, the poor soul, had come knocking a few weeks later, concerned when she didn't return any of his calls and Vicious was the one to meet him at the door. A week later, Julia's wrist was still healing from the brand he'd burned into her flesh. They found Markus's body in the river. She shuddered at the memory. When she looked at him, the male's eyes were mere angry slits and he scoffed.

"What would you know, hm? You turned your back on me when I was willing to forgive your betrayal and let you live and yet again you showed me how little my love for you counted. I had every right to end your life for what you did."

"Love? You loved me, Vicious? What do you know of love? You expected me to restrain my emotions when someone put a gun to your head, pretending our life together meant nothing when business was in progress. You whored me out when the right price earned you the information you sought. The only time you ever laid a caring hand on me was when you wanted to convince me there was no better place for me than with you. That's not love. That's ownership."

"There's a difference? I'd have given you anything you asked of me."

"Except my freedom."

She gave him that sardonic smile of his; his expression did not even flicker a change.

"I offered you your freedom."

"At the end of your blade."

"You were mine, Julia. I'd not have given you up to anyone."

"You never gave me a choice, Vicious."

"I did give you a choice, Julia. Live at my side or die by his. You made your decision…"

"Momma?"

The sound of the younger female's voice froze both figures in the bedroom. Julia's eyes snapped towards the sleepy blonde standing in her doorway. When Vicious turned towards Sarah, Julia saw his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. He frowned, remaining both silent and still, as if transfixed by this unexpected interruption. Sarah's gaze switched from Julia to Vicious and back.

"Who that, Momma?"

"Baby… you should be in bed."

Julia moved away from the platinum shadow, her heartbeat skipping at the sound of his fingers tightening their grip on his weapon. When he made no other sound or movement, she swept up to the little girl and drew her into her arms. Sarah's eyes now fixed on Vicious, never looking away until Julia had carried her out of the bedroom and down the adjacent hall.

"Momma?"

"It's alright, baby. He's just a… friend."

Julia smiled through her tearful untruth, whisking the innocent child off and into the spare bedroom. Sarah clung to the older blonde even as she was laid in bed. The woman found herself unable to pull away from the girl, holding tightly to her a few long moments. When she drew away, Sarah's eyes were filled with tears.

"Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Sarah sniffled, nodding almost imperceptibly. Julia drew the blankets up, waited for Sarah to snuggle under them, and tucked the little girl in. She gently touched her forehead, fingertips caressing the child's cheek, and kissed her goodnight. It took all her will to keep from breaking down in tears at the thought of leaving her behind and all her strength to walk away.

When she re-entered the bedroom, Vicious was nowhere to be found. For a moment, she was almost willing to believe it had been a bad dream or that he'd had a change of heart at seeing the little girl. The fingertips that dug into her scalp, gathering a handful of her hair into her assailant's palm, however, told her otherwise. Her throbbing headache returned in a dull roar as her bedroom door was shut and she was thrown backwards against it.

"What a beautiful little girl, Julia. She looks so much like her mother. I wonder… she's so young. Who could possibly be her father?"

Panic rose in Julia's chest. She'd known from the moment she decided to keep the girl that there were more reasons to it than for the girl's sake. Her eyes had haunted Julia from that first moment she'd gazed into them and, as much as Julia knew Sarah needed her, she knew also that she needed Sarah just as much. Now, her ill-fated mistake would cost her yet another precious life.

"No, Vicious, please! She's not mine! Please…"

The laughter on the male's lips gave her pause and she frowned at him as he leaned back, releasing his grip on her hair.

"Fear not, Julia. I know the truth. I must admit… I'm rather surprised at you. Keeping a little girl you found in a burning motel. I always knew you had a soft spot for pathetic life forms in need."

"How…?"

"Your biggest mistake, Julia. The police report documented that one Julia Spiegel and her 'daughter,' Sarah were among the survivors of a gang war target. You were just unlucky enough to have been in a place targeted by the White Tiger, otherwise I might never have found you…"

Oh, god, she had led him straight to her door all because of a stupid mistake? Her thoughts had been on the girl and how much her eyes reminded her of the wayward Cowboy. The answer to the question asked, however wrong, had merely slipped off her tongue like water. How could she have been so careless?

"You needn't worry about the girl, Julia. I will be merciful."

"What…?"

"I will see to it that she dies quickly, while she still sleeps…"

"No! Vicious, please! She has nothing to do with this!"

"You would prefer, then, that I let her find your dead body?"

Julia was silent at this. She could find no words to reply. Her gaze traveled away from his face. An arrogant smirk crossed his features and he took slow, methodical steps to bridge the gap between them. She took a fearful step back, but he caught her upper arm and gripped tightly. When she grimaced, but tried to keep quiet, he threw her into the closest wall.

"Are you afraid of death, Julia?"

He was on her again, a hand gripped loosely on her throat. She closed her eyes, fingers curling into her palms. She felt cold steel against her neck and she held perfectly still. To her surprise, her body was not rigid; her breath was not uneven. She was calm, ready.

"I died once, Vicious. Death holds no horror for me now. This is all… just a dream. He taught me that. You succeed only in speeding me off to his arms, to a place where you can separate us no more. My only regret is in bringing Sarah undeservedly to the end of your blade."

She heard him growl and felt the steel press further into her skin. She winced, her fingers trembling a little in anticipation. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine Spike's face.

"End it, Vicious, if that is your intent. I am not afraid."

"Goodnight, Julia…"

She heard the creak of his fingers on the hilt of the blade as his grip tightened. Her fingers curled into her palms to reduce the shaking as the moment before oblivion seemed to last forever. A heartbeat passed between them. Another. A third. For the second time in his life, Vicious hesitated.

He glared at her, the scowl on his face unrelenting. His lower lip twitched, almost trembling. One hand rested on the blade of the katana, trembling as it refused to bury the steel in her vulnerable flesh. When he found himself unable to move after another moment, he fell back a step. Angrily, he thrust the blade into the floor with a loud pierce of carpet and wood. When he could bring himself to look at her again, he found her eyes on him; an unspoken question read loudly in her gaze.

"Vicious?"

"Why…? What stays my hand? You made your choice! Your life is mine to end!"

She took a step forward, her hand outstretched towards him.

"Vicious…"

"No!"

He shouted, both hands thrusting out and gripping her neck. She yelped in surprise as his hands tightened brutally around her throat. Instinctively, when her body began to scream for air, she thrashed about. Her fingertips clawed at his hands; blood trickled in the trail of her fingers' wake. The male's form was perfectly calm; stoic; motionless. His eyes were deadly; dangerous; vicious. She felt a shudder run up her spine.

Stars and tears blurred her vision as she looked up at him; her legs gave way beneath her thrashing weight. Just as her ears were starting to ring and darkness stole most of her vision, sweet, blessed oxygen returned to her. Her windpipe ached and protested each time she swallowed, but her lungs gave thanks with each large gulp of air she dragged into them. She was on her hands and knees, coughing and gasping and praising every god that could hear for the air in her lungs.

Vicious watched her for a long moment, struggling with himself. While she was still recovering from the attempt on her life, he found himself falling to his knees. He continued to stare at her until the rage and confusion he felt had him burying his face in his palm and his fingertips grasping thick locks of silver hair. He trembled and his breathing was uneven.

"Vi…Vicious…"

Her breath was returning to her now, but her voice croaked around the burning pain in her throat. Tentatively, she approached him. Her hand reached out, fingertips just barely grazing the locks of hair that shielded his face. When he looked at her at last, his eyes were confused; angry; lost. She withdrew her hand, sitting back on her calves.

"You see? My single weakness… I cannot bring myself to end you with my own hands. How am I to achieve my ultimate goal if I cannot even silence my own weaknesses?"

His voice trembled when he spoke, something she had never heard before. Had he the ability, she wondered if he would be crying now. Pity welled in her eyes as she leaned forward again, touching his face. He stared at her, not moving for a long moment.

"I'm sorry…"

The look on his face was sorrowful, but familiar. He shook his head, clutching her wrist.

"Sorry? That I can't kill you? What an odd choice of words, Julia."

She gave him a gentle smile, her fingertips caressing his cheek.

"I'm sorry our lives came to this point, that we each must live as we do."

He chuckled quietly, his lips never breaking a smile. Her hand slid from his face and she leaned back again. He followed her, one hand resting on the floor between them as the other wrapped fingers around the back of her neck. She gave him a wary gaze as he drew close to her, uncertain of his intentions. It was difficult to tell who was more surprised when his lips collided with hers in a rough, sudden kiss.

She whimpered her surprise at the feel of his lips, but he held her fast to him, claiming her mouth. His touch and taste were familiar, though the memory was faded and worn. His fingers buried themselves in her hair and brought her back towards him. Instinctively, she pushed away, trying to break his hold on her. His grip tightened in response and instead he slipped his tongue into her quivering mouth.

"Nn!"

Her fingers clutched at his rain-soaked heavy coat as his tongue mapped the already memorized orifice. His grip was possessive as it always had been and, oddly, it was comforting. When she could fight the familiarity of him no longer, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, surrendering to his dominance. A growl rumbled in his throat a moment before he drew his lips from hers at last, the taste of her still singing in his senses.

Without a word, he was on his feet. Before doubt could creep into her mind, he was scooping her up in his arms and depositing her, unceremoniously, on her futon. He was on her again in a second, his mouth devouring and sharing each of her quick, shaky breaths. She gave a little whimpered-moan into his onslaught, unable to push him away as he pressed his form against hers. When he finally released his hold on her, she was panting; her gaze was silently questioning him.

"Will you be good for me?"

The flush of her face made him grin as he leaned back on his calves, shrugging out of the still damp raincoat. There was a soft 'flump' as the length of cloth piled in a heap on the floor at the foot of her bed. Beneath the coat he wore a simple pinstripe white dress shirt pressed to his shoulders by a pair of black suspenders and matching tie. His black dress slacks were slightly damp where the coat didn't cover him and her bare legs erupted in gooseflesh at the contrast of cool water against her heated skin.

His gaze fixed on hers as he thumbed the suspender straps, letting them slide off his shoulders to dangle against his hips. She scooted back a few inches from under him, propping herself up on her elbows and watching his fingers as they worked. One of his hands reached down, cupping her chin and drawing her up onto her knees in a single motion. His lips touched hers briefly as he brought her hands to the knot of his tie.

"You were always so much better at this than I."

Despite that her nerves were stretched near to bursting, the blonde found herself chuckling at his words. The memory was a distant one, faded and faint. The familiar look in his eyes and the surprisingly natural instincts that guided her hands, however, felt dreamily nostalgic.

"Like a present at Christmastime…"

"One you can't wait to open."

She heard him chuckle at the reddening of her face. As if to brush aside her thoughts and focus elsewhere, she traced her fingertips along the black silk tie. With skills she'd not practiced in years, she pulled at the soft fabric until it was loose and tugged the end free of his collar. His hands slid along her forearms before they fell to her sides.

"Vicious, I…"

"No more protests, Julia. Close your eyes and pretend it's just a dream."

"But, it is, Vicious. All of it."

"And dreams don't have to make sense."

Before she could utter another word, he was crouched over her again, his lips claiming hers and his fingers working feverishly to part the buttoned front of her nightshirt. She did not fight him, though the growing unease in her heart begged her to. Goosebumps raised along her upper half as the cool air caressed her bare flesh.

"Close your eyes, Julia."

With a flutter, the blonde obeyed. Above her, the male shifted. The futon creaked almost imperceptibly beneath them. For a brief moment, his chest pressed against hers and she caught the scent of him mixed with the sweet chill of the storm. She found herself longing for it when he straightened himself up and drew the scent from her reach.

As if reading her thoughts, he was against her again, his lips devouring her tongue to the sound of her gentle murrs. Her hands roamed the expanse of his lower back until she felt him tugging her wrists over her head. For a moment, she faltered.

"Vicious?"

"Keep your eyes closed, Julia."

She fidgeted uncomfortably, but did not open her eyes. Silky fabric slid along her wrists and drew them close together. After a second, the male tugged at her arms, a satisfied smirk on his face when he felt the resistance of the cloth tied to the futon frame.

"Mm, perfect. You may open you eyes now, Julia."

"What did you do?"

"Now you're _my_ little gift to unwrap."

The glint in his eyes worried her and she gave a testing pull on her arms. When they would not move more than an inch from the metal frame, her heart sank. She glanced up and saw his handiwork. The black silk tie she had helped him remove was now snaked around her wrists and securely fastened to the frame.

"Better?"

"What do you mean, 'better?' What are you doing?"

"Does this ease your guilt and uncertainty? Now that you no longer have a choice?"

"Vicious…"

"And once I've unwrapped my new toy, I get to play with her however I choose."

The blonde's face darkened red and she audibly whined. Whether the sound was more fearful or embarrassed was impossible to tell. When strong fingers buried in her long hair and yanked her head back, however, another sound, this time more definitely surprised, escaped her lips. His breath was warm on her exposed neck when he pressed his cheek against hers.

"Allow me to remind you why you chose me over Spike the night we met…"

Julia held her breath as his whispered words tickled her ears. The oxygen in her lungs was torn from her throat with a gasp as the male's teeth sank into her neck. Her back arched upwards and her wrists rebelled against the restraints. The rumbling grown against her flesh made her shiver and the initial pain of his sudden attack melted in sweet pleasure.

"Vicious…"

Her voice returned to her as his teeth released her tender flesh. A lustful grin creased his features and he licked at his lips. His kiss was surprisingly gentle and she purred at the taste of him. His fingers traced the curve of her hips as he watched her.

"What to do with my pretty, new toy?"

"Vicious, untie me. Please."

"Why would I want to do that, my dear?"

"This isn't… fair."

"Mm, but this way you can tell yourself you didn't want it; you didn't enjoy it. This way I can ravage you and you don't have to feel guilty enjoying it."

"How uncharacteristically considerate of you."

The male chuckled and grinned as she yelped when his fingers dug into her lower back.

"I rather you enjoy you all tied up and helpless at my mercy. It makes you glow with a light I can't resist."

With another growl, he was feasting on her right breast. She trembled in his ferocity, uttering his name with fervor only he ever inspired. He seemed to surge and shudder at the sound of her voice, an energy awakening in him that had long been forgotten.

Eager fingers worked to guide her panties down her legs; fingertips dragged tender red lines in their wake. While neither breaking his hold on her pert, tormented nipple nor hesitating, he plunged the length of two fingers into her. She whimpered slightly with a groan; her tightness belied the truth: she had not lain with another in years. The male grinned into her flesh. _Even better._

His fingers claimed her for all they were worth over and again. She struggled around hushed moans, no doubt trying to keep from waking Sarah. The temptation to test her strength of will and focus rose in him, but he let it simmer in the back of his mind for the time being. Instead, he took pleasure in watching her squirm and writhe; he adored her feeble attempts to escape his expert knotting.

Her eyes fluttered with each quick, forceful thrust of his fingers. Energy surged through all of her senses as pleasure trickled out from her core. Her legs curled tightly around his waist and held him firmly against her. It took everything she had to keep from yelping so loudly it would likely wake Sarah. If she weren't certain he would either stop altogether or work harder to make her scream, she would complain as such.

"Vicious, please, untie me. This isn't fair. I want to feel you…"

Without a word, he released her flesh from his lips. His fingers slid slowly from her and he chuckled to watch her hips arch and try to follow the source of their pleasure. Her legs loosened and collapsed on either side of him. He leaned back on his calves and his fingers began to pull apart the buttons from their fastens to reveal scarcely defined, pale flesh beneath.

The shirt hung loosely open as the male moved to the buttons on his wrists. Julia's eyes remained transfixed on the sight of that bare, mostly flawless flesh. With a somewhat sad smile, she noticed the only blemish that marked his otherwise perfect front. As the male discarded the freed dress shirt, he paused and frowned at her expression.

"Julia?"

"You have them, too?"

"Have what?"

"Exit wounds…"

The male glanced down, gently fingering the scar close to his heart. The mere memory brought familiar pain to the touch, but he remained expressionless. As his gaze traveled over the other's chest, it stopped at a familiar sight. There was a time when he knew every part of her, every inch of her flesh. Conceitedly, he might believe he still did if not for those two scars that so matched his own. With a surprisingly gentle, tender motion, he bent down and kissed the twin exit wounds that had almost been the herald of the end of her life.

"I made them pay, Julia. All of them. Every scumbag who dared lay a hand on you or tried to take you away from me…"

His eyes were haunted as he laid his cheek against her bosom. Her pulse thrummed in his ears and he lay that way for a long moment. His fingertips trickled gooseflesh along her arms as he unbound her wrists. After a moment, she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him as she had when their world had made so much more sense.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he placed gentle kisses to her front. She murred at the attention and whispered his name into the nearly silent bedroom. Her fingers brushed through his hair and he shivered some at her touch. After a long moment, the male grunted and began to move once more.

When he leaned back up, she followed him. With the faintest hint of a smirk, she began unfastening the clasp and zipper of his slacks. Silently, he watched her and barely kept in check the sudden urge to pin her down and mark her with his teeth and fingertips. He slid from the bed and peeled the still damp pants from his form.

Despite the chill, his body radiated heat and with his pants discarded, there was no hiding his need for her. She felt herself flush at the sight of him but she tried to keep her gazed focused on his face. His breath was deep and slow, as if he were restraining himself in some way.

He eased himself back onto the futon, pressing one knee between her legs and the other on the left side of her. He momentarily paused as his gaze fell to the pillows under her. At the sight of them, a wicked grin spread over his features. She eyed him warily when she saw his expression.

"Vicious?"

"Lift your hips for me, Julia."

She gave him an odd glance as he stole both pillows from beneath her. With her shoulders more evenly rested on the futon, it made it easier for her to lift her hips as he requested. When she was in the proper position, Vicious slid the pillows under her rear and guided her back down onto them.

"What are you planning now?"

"I want to hear all the pretty noises my new toy can make."

"Vicious, if Sarah wakes up-"

He leaned down and silenced her with a rough, possessing kiss. His fingers delved between her legs and filled her without warning. She gasped into his kiss and arched her hips; the motion drew his fingers further within and his growl rumbled against her lips. He thrust again as he drew his mouth away and dipped his tongue teasingly within her lips when she inhaled sharply again.

"I suggest you keep quiet then, if you don't want to wake the little one."

If the blonde had intended to retort or protest, the chance had been stolen from her when Vicious suddenly lifted her hips and plunged into her depths. They shuddered in unison; a restrained groan issued from both their mouths. Julia's arm reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck to hold the warmth of him against her as he buried himself in her again.

As the once-simmering temptation boiled beyond his control, he gripped her hips tightly and began a quick, forceful rhythm that echoed a sharp, resounding crack into the small bedroom with each crash of his body into hers. The blonde struggled visibly as pleasure consumed her senses. She bit back a startled yelp and buried her face in his shoulder to stifle the cries of ecstasy that threatened to alert her sleeping child.

"Vicious-! Please…nngh! S-sarah…"

"What's the matter, precious? Can't keep quiet?"

He thrust sharply twice, eliciting an almost pitiful whine from his counterpart. He grinned and slipped two fingers in her mouth. She hesitated momentarily; uncertain what to think of this sudden move. When he started thrusting his fingers in time with his hips, her tongue began licking and suckling at the invading digits. She could taste the thickly sweet of her own desire and flushed at the heat that grew when she realized what she was doing.

"Is that better, my pretty little plaything?"

Again she whined at him and he chuckled. He resumed his pace and plowed into her again and again. He relished in her stifled squeals and the way her muscles tightened around him as he built her release. His fingertips dug half-moon shapes into her hips as he gripped and used them for leverage. With a hiss, he leaned down to her.

"Come for me, Julia. Just let go…"

"Vicious-!"

The male claimed his lover's lips and feasted on the taste of her. Julia's body surged at the other's ministrations and reveled in the overwhelming pleasure he lit within her. As the writhing blonde clung tightly to her form, she felt her senses peak and crash in a wave of ecstasy. His name floated from between her lips as her muscles tightened in release before her building desire trickled to dampen the sheets.

"Vicious, please… I am yours…"

Had she said anymore, the male heard nothing of it. Those last three words had been more than enough to send him over the edge. A low, almost bestial growl erupted from his throat and his teeth claimed her neck possessively. His thrusts turned momentarily more brutal as his peak pitched and his seed filled her womb.

When he had finally calmed, he all but collapsed upon her. He kept himself mostly propped up over her and took a moment to catch his breath. His vision cleared of stars and he remained panting a few minutes longer. He paused to feather her moist face with kisses. He wasted no time in wondering if the salty taste on his lips was sweat or tears.

Her fingers idly combed through his hair as they both took their time recovering. When he had calmed enough to breathe normally, he flopped onto his side next to her. He draped an arm over her and gently stroked her side. After a moment, she turned to face him. Her exhaustion was written plainly in her eyes.

"Vicious…"

"Hush."

He moved to lie on his back. The arm that had been draped over her grasped her wrist and pulled it over him. He snaked his other arm under her head and drew her face against his chest. After a reluctant moment, she sighed and settled into him. He watched her close her eyes. With a faint smile, his own closed and he returned to gently stroking her flesh.

"Vicious, I-"

"No more talk tonight. Go to sleep."

She groaned at him, but said no more. Within moments, her breathing deepened and evened and he knew she was asleep. He sighed somewhat and tried to pretend tomorrow would not bring the problems he knew it would.

"Goodnight, my Julia."


	4. Chapter Three: Familiar Farewells

Chapter Three – Familiar Farewells

Consciousness came to her with a slow, reluctant pull through the fog of sleep. At first, she was willing to believe the previous night had been no more than a dream. The cold, emptiness of her bed seemed only to fuel this delusion and, with no real reason to force herself out of bed, she was tempted to turn over and go back to sleep.

As she turned away from the wall, a silhouette against the window caught the attention of her barely slit eyes. Reluctantly, she forced her eyes to focus more clearly. Next to the window and no more clothed than he had been when she'd fallen asleep, there stood the glaring truth of what had most certainly NOT been a dream. Uncertainty crept through the drowsy blonde, but she took this quiet moment to admire the way the fading moonlight made his skin glow like silver.

Again she found herself tempted to turn over and go back to sleep. If he knew she was awake, he made no signs. Perhaps, if she were lucky, he might simply leave. The events of last night had posed questions that only made their situation more awkward. She wanted nothing more than to pretend it hadn't happened, that she hadn't given herself to him in a moment of passion. With the hope that he was yet unaware of her conscious state, she tried to turn away and drift back to dreaming.

"Julia…"

"Vicious."

"You're awake."

"You, too."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. You?"

"Mm."

The female sighed slowly. Lethargically, she dragged herself out from under the warmth of the blankets. Without bothering with clothes, she padded over to him in silence. He remained motionless as she leaned into his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. She breathed in his scent and nuzzled gently into him.

"So this is where we're left?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two people who can't say more than few words at a time to each other?"

"What would you have me say, Julia?"

She fell silent at this. She had no answer. What could he say? She could ask him to explain himself, but part of her didn't want to know the answer. She wondered if his plans still included leaving her and Sarah behind, shaken loose the mortal coil. She took a deep breath.

"Where do we go from here?"

"You have to ask?"

The male pulled himself from her embrace and turned towards her. He saw the nervousness and fear hidden in her eyes. His palm cupped her cheek and his thumb gently stroked her flesh. After a moment, he drew her with him as he turned back towards the window. He wrapped his arms around her in the same manner she had done to him, but rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Vicious…"

"You're coming with me, Julia."

"I'm not. You know can't."

"Last night, you said…"

"I know what I said."

"Are you saying it was a lie?"

"I'm saying you know I can't and why."

"I'm saying you will and that's the last of it."

"I don't even get a choice?"

"I gave you a choice."

"You bound my hands."

"I unbound them at your request and you welcomed me still with those same hands."

"Vicious, please."

"Give me one reason, Julia."

"Sarah! She's afraid of you. I have to think of her above myself. Can you be a father, Vicious?"

"If I said yes?"

"The answer would still be no."

"I'm going back, Julia. I'm going to bring them back together – unite them under a single banner once more."

"Them?"

"The syndicate."

"They fell apart?"

"With no one strong enough to lead them, they broke into smaller and smaller factions until no true syndicate remained. I command a small group of people still loyal to the Dragon. I intend to gather the scattered remnants and reform the syndicate. I and I alone will be Van."

"Is this supposed to change my mind? You're only giving me more reason to resist."

"Once I rise to power, you will be in danger. It did not take much for me to find you. Others may come for you to get to me. Sarah will be a target as well."

"We would be safer at your side, then? Right where we're out in the open?"

"If you were at my side, I could protect you. Neither you nor Sarah would want for anything."

"No, Vicious. Please don't force this. I know that life. I remember it far more clearly than I'd like. Sarah is so fragile. I don't want to bury her with scars like mine."

The male's grip on her tightened. His breathing turned momentarily gruff and she thought she heard the faintest growl. Another moment following, he sighed. He pressed his mouth against her shoulder and nipped at the flesh. She responded with little murrs of pleasure and found herself relaxing from the tension of their conversation.

"You must know, once I leave this place, you are dead to me. No matter what happens to you, I will not respond. I will leave you as I originally intended: out of my life for good. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And there is nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"I'm sorry, Vicious."

"Just once, I would have liked to leave you not apologizing for the way we part."

"Vicious…"

"The sun's coming up."

The female sighed and relaxed into him. For a moment, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, something had changed. She couldn't place what it was, but suddenly, everything felt like it had before, as if time had gone in reverse. There was no Spike, no Sarah, no guilty regret at knowing she couldn't follow where he was leading.

"When will you go?"

"While the little one still sleeps."

Julia nodded slowly and leaned her cheek into his. Again she heard that low growl and his embrace turned momentarily possessive. Part of her longed to go with him. Perhaps the nostalgia was bringing her back to the morning he asked her to come with him to Mars for the first time. Perhaps she was suffering the ancient, buried, and once-though-perished pangs of love.

When the morning drew nearer to afternoon, she watched in silent agony as he slowly dressed and gathered his things. His eyes never left her face as she helped him with his tie. For her part, however, she could not bring herself to meet his eyes. In the cool of the mid-Autumn morning, they stood together at the door.

"This is your last chance, Julia."

"I know."

"The moment that door closes, you're dead to me."

"Yes, Vicious."

He sighed.

"You really aren't coming?"

"You know I can't."

To this, he nodded. Taking one final deep breath, he turned the knob and opened the door. He paused, as if he intended to say something or look back. He did neither. Without another moment of hesitation, he breached the threshold. Finally, before she could close the door, he looked back over his shoulder.

"You are mine, Julia. Remember that you were mine before you died a second time."

She swallowed hard, but nodded. A ghost of a smile graced his features, he turned, and he was gone. When she could no longer see him, she closed the door and collapsed on the nearby loveseat. As if on cue, a sleepy little blonde sauntered to her and curled up against her on the loveseat. With a breath, Julia wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders.

"Who was that, Momma?"

"The black crow king…"

"Huh?"

"Nothing, baby. Just a ghost…"


	5. Epilogue: Old Habits

Epilogue – Old Habits

After a second brush with death that had left her feeling empty and unfulfilled, Julia found herself changing for the second time. Where once she had moved from place-to-place, tried to stay under the radar, remained nothing more than a faded memory, she was suddenly settled down in a simple, two-bedroom flat and employed to support Sarah and herself. This change was the first and easier of the two to adjust to. The second had been the most difficult to overcome.

For nearly five years, she had woken up to follow same routine. Before breakfast, before her shower, before even dressing fully, she walked through her apartment or hotel room or the floor of the abandoned building and searched. She searched every room, every shadow, every corner for any signs that she'd been followed, that she was being watched, that he'd finally caught up to her. Now, almost six years after fleeing from him the first time, she woke without fear or paranoia. For the first time, she felt safe, free.

Almost a year had passed since she'd last laid eyes on him. In that time, her life had taken on a leisurely, peaceful pace that reminded her of the days before she had ever met the Red Dragon gangsters. A few months ago, the radio newscasters began reporting on the rumored movements of the once-believed extinct Red Dragon syndicate. Despite herself, Julia couldn't help turning the volume up when such reports came on. They never mentioned his name, but she still listened; just in case.

One morning, she came in from working a night shift at the diner to find the house quieter than usual. At times, Sarah would fall asleep listening to a favourite CD; it helped her feel safe in the dark when Julia had to work at night. When silence greeted her, she wondered if perhaps the little blonde was already awake. She hung her coat by the door, slipped off her shoes at the foyer, and draped her apron over a chair in her bedroom. She leaned against her doorway as she freed her tousled hair from the bun she'd pressed it into before her shift.

"Sarah? You awake, pretty girl?"

Silence. The older blonde frowned. With caution, a step she couldn't quite rationally justify, she headed down the hallway towards the little girl's room.

"C'mon, sleepy head. I'll make waffles if you're hungry."

Her hands shook as she grasped the doorknob. With agonizing slowness, she turned the knob and opened the door. At first, she saw nothing. Panic leapt in her throat and her heart pounded in her chest. A struggled whimper caught her attention and she whirled on her heels in the direction of the little girl's voice.

"Sarah!"

As she turned, her heart stopped. In the arms of a tall, dark-skinned stranger, Sarah struggled around a tight-fitting gag. It took a moment for the blonde to breathe again as she stared down the grinning intruder. When she felt the world around her start with a kick, she struggled to keep her legs from collapsing.

"I hope you've enough to feed everyone. We're all mighty hungry, Momma."

"Wh-who…"

"Now I'm certain that feels like a terribly important question right now. The truth is, you don't really need to know who I am. The only thing you need to worry about right now is this sweet, well-behaved little girl. You see, Miss Julia, Sarah is very scared right now and for a very good reason. There are very bad men that want to hurt little Sarah. If it weren't for her favourite new uncle, those men would have done awful things to her."

"Favourite… uncle?"

"Why, that would be me, of course."

"Of course…"

"I promise, Momma, no bad is going to come to your pretty girl. In return, you have to promise you're going to behave. Can you do that for me?"

"What do you want? Why are you in my home?"

"I represent a certain group of people who are very interested in doing business with the new head of the Red Dragon syndicate. Unfortunately, it seems the Van is not as… receptive of our generous offer and my clients feel they haven't been given enough consideration."

"And you think hurting us is going to get you somewhere?"

"Miss Julia, you wound me. I never said anything about hurting either of you. So long as you both are on your best behavior, I can assure no harm will come to you. You may be at the mercy of the wolf pack, but this alpha doesn't like to see innocent blood shed."

"How unusual to find a man among beasts. Unfortunately for your clients, you've found the wrong bait. Vicious considers me dead; we will gain you nothing."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that, then, won't we? In the mean time, my orders are clear. We can do this one of two ways: the easy way or the _painfully_ easy way. The choice is entirely in your hands, but I don't think I need to remind you which one of us is holding little Sarah."

Julia's heart dropped like a rock into the pit of her stomach. Acid burned in the back of her throat and she felt like throwing up. A quivering hand reached out to grasp the bedroom doorknob in order to support her weakening body. After a moment, she drew a strengthening breath and cleared her throat.

"If… if we cooperate and don't make a fuss… If we do that and Vicious doesn't answer, what then?"

"I'm certain my clients will be more than happy to see to it that you and your little girl are returned safely where we found you and with our sincerest apologies."

"Bullshit. Your clients are nothing but gangsters and thugs. I know how you do business. I came to mean something to Vicious by starting out as his partner, not as some five-dollar whore. You can't assure me we'll walk away from this alive without Vicious's help, if even then. What reason do I have to listen to anything you have to say?"

The dark-skinned male listened as she spoke and slowly sighed. He shook his head and suddenly yanked Sarah's head back by a handful of hair. The little girl yelped and Julia saw tears in her eyes. The older female took a step forward, as if intending to rush to her child's side, and stopped. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes glossed over with fearful tears.

"You speak incorrectly, Miss Julia. You have no reason to trust me. You do not, however, have no reason to listen to me and cooperate, regardless of the eventual circumstances. Now, I'm willing to forgive that little outburst as the emotional ranting of a distressed mother. However, I would appreciate, as I'm certain little Sarah would appreciate, no other reasons for me to hurt her. Do I make myself clear?"

Julia trembled and found the world around her become foggy, unfocused.

"Y-yes. I understand."

"Good. If you can comport yourself with some dignity and common sense, I will be happy to release the little girl as you two accompany me to my vehicle outside. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes… yes, please."

The male grinned and gently placed Sarah on her feet. The little girl shook visibly as she tried to remain very perfectly still. The intruder took a moment and untied the cloth gag that left bright red marks on the girl's cheeks where they had stretched her skin too far. Julia tried to keep from sobbing at the sight of her scared child and reached her arms out towards her. Once given a gentle push from the male at her back, Sarah went running for her surrogate mother.

"Momma!"

"Sarah…"

Julia wrapped her arms tightly around the smaller blonde and held her close. Out of the corner of her eyes, Julia saw the stranger stand from one of Sarah's chairs and walk towards them. With an arm on her shoulder, her led the female through her apartment. Julia cursed at herself silently as they walked. Why had she thought she was safe? Why had she been so stupid as to think she could completely escape the long reach of the syndicate life?

She found herself longing for the days when she lived in fear, when she took every possible measure to ensure her safety. It had been an old habit. A habit that had taken much time and effort to break. A habit that had seemed over-obsessive, unnecessary. A habit that might have saved her little girl from the terror she had and would eventually witness. Old habits die hard, but childhood scars never fade.

Vicious… how stupid I was to think that I was safest when I was furthest from you… What have I done? 


End file.
